Blood on My Hands
by doggieearlover
Summary: The day goes from bad to worse for Father Abel Nightroad.


Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Trinity Blood.

**Author's Note**: This is a series of drabbles written for the new Fanfic_bakeoff community at Livejournal. The prompt is "**catch**" and the requirement for each entry is to be between **100 and 300 words**.

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**Blood on My Hands**

**Part 1. Prey**

He was panting as he ran, his pursuers not far behind him. He could tell that they were toying with him, laughing at him, as he tried to escape.

He had gone into the city of Methuselah to attempt to negotiate for the return of the human crew of a ship that had gone down. The Vampires were insisting that they had perished in the crash, but the Vatican knew that was not the truth. Father Abel Nightroad had been sent to attempt to bring the humans back from the city of the undead. He had been sent out as soon as word reached the Vatican that the ship had gone down in Methuselah territory, but arrived only to find that it had been raided of its cargo and its human crew, and no attempts on his part had convinced them to return them. In truth, the Methuselah had no problem with breaking the delicate balance between the human and vampire worlds, considering themselves to be stronger and natural rulers.

Father Nightroad was certain the crew had been auctioned off like livestock, but he had nothing to support his theory. He couldn't even afford a decent meal in the city – if there was one to be had by a poor priest such as he. Disheartened, he had started the long walk back to Catholic territory.

It was after nightfall when he heard them. He picked up the pace, hoping that they would leave him alone. He began to run when he heard their footsteps pound loudly on the road. He knew they were playing with him. He allowed his fear to roll off him in waves as they closed in.

"Nanomachines: Crusnik 02 - 40% Activate." Too late, the hunters would discover they were the catch of the day.

...

**Part 2. Be Careful What You Wish For**

The vampires followed the bumbling priest from the city. They were still laughing that the Vatican had sent such a fool to try to recover the humans and cargo from the ship that had crashed. In truth, it had not gone down on its own, but had a little help. The modern day pirates had profited handsomely on the contents of the ship with the female members of the crew fetching an especially high price.

"So how much do you think a human Catholic Priest will fetch?" the vampire in the middle asked. "I would think one such as him would be especially sweet."

All three of them laughed. "He certainly should be considering how much sugar he takes in his tea. Have you ever seen anyone request fourteen cubes of sugar before?"

"Not even for an entire pot!" the third exclaimed.

"He may be on the lean side, but his blood should be valuable. Let's pick up the pace, shall we?"

The leader grinned. "He's starting to flee like a frightened rabbit. Let's chase him to ground like one, shall we?"

They began to run, not silently like they were capable of, but flat-footed to make additional noise.

The leader held out his hand and stopped them. "Can you smell it? His fear is overwhelming. It's time to catch our prey."

"Yes, it is."

"What the fuck! What ARE you?" the Methuselah shouted.

Before them, instead of the bumbling priest, was the most frightening being they'd ever encountered. His silver hair twisting wildly above his head, his lips were dark blue and his eyes blood red. His grim smile revealed fangs but even that wasn't as terrifying as the scythe of crystallized blood he carried in his hands.

"Your worst nightmare," the Crusnik responded, "and you are my dinner."

...

**Part 3. Buyers' Remorse**

He had felt no guilt in his Crusnik form, but now that he was back to his more human appearance, Father Nightroad couldn't help but to feel some anguish a the sight of the bodies that littered the ground around him.

He had given them every opportunity to stop their pursuit, but instead they had continued after him in an almost childish, gleeful manner. They were vampires and difficult to kill, but once he activated the Crusnik nanomachines, they stood no chance against him.

The normally humble Catholic priest and member of the AX squad wiped away the blood from the corner of his mouth before he continued on his way. He realized that for once he did not feel hungry. The blood of the three vampires had at least temporarily stated his persistent appetite. While his human body could be sustained on human food, he always still felt an ache that could not be satisfied, a thirst that could not be quenched. Because in truth, he was not totally human. He was an experiment created for the colonies on Mars where his body had been infused with the ancient Martian technology they found there. He was created to be a predator of predators.

The Methuselah only thought they were higher beings. Most had no knowledge of the Crusnik or their destructive nature and lack of guilt and remorse. Whenever the undead sought to catch the mild-mannered priest they sealed their own fate.

Unfortunately, he, Father Abel Nightroad, had sworn not to kill unless it was absolutely necessary and suffered from guilt when he had to break that vow.

He would return to the Vatican and seek forgiveness, just as he always did.

Maybe it would last a little longer this time.

Maybe not.


End file.
